


The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men and Damian Wayne

by SuperRedRobin (SweetFanfics)



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Hook-Up, M/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2012-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-01 14:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/SuperRedRobin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There had to be a way to get Drake out of his hair which did not involve blood shed and violence. Or the older man six feet under but Damian was confident that he would figure out a way that would keep Red Robin out of Gotham and away from his sights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men and Damian Wayne

There had to be a way to get Drake out of his hair which did not involve blood shed and violence. Or the older man six feet under but Damian was confident that he would figure out a way that would keep Red Robin out of Gotham and away from his sights.

 

Idly he wondered how effective it would be to literally shipping the man to San Fransisco. _‘He would be back in Gotham within 24 hours_.’ Damian clicked his tongue and scrolled through his iPod. As he skipped past songs and artists, the music began to recede. Muffled voices grew louder as silence poured out from his earphones.

 

“-see the look on his face?”

 

Ah that reminded him, he also needed to think of a suitable plan to deal with Fatgirl.

 

But one head ache at a time.

 

“Lit up like a Christmas tree.” Dick’s amused voice chimed in, clear as a bell as the pair walked towards him. Damian continued to slouch over his work bench, uninterested in whatever _inane_ discussion they were having.

 

“It’s nice to see Tim so happy.”

 

 _‘Yes. Nice. As nice as being stung by wasps while being chased down by a group of assassins in the middle of the hottest summer in the Middle East.’_ Damian thought with an irritated roll of his eyes. Because ‘nice’ wasn’t the word _he_ would use to describe his ‘older brother’ being ‘happy’. Actually, ‘happy’ wouldn’t be accurate either.

 

The man had been walking around the mansion with an _extremely_ goofy, dazed look in his eyes whenever no one was around. Two minutes alone where he thought that no one was looking and his eyes would go soft and he’d stare off into space with a smile. Disgusting and sappy, _that_ would be the more correct way to describe that insufferable Drake’s attitude these days. Just thinking about it left a bad taste in his mouth.

 

“True. But seriously, could those two _be_ anymore _obvious?_ ” Dick’s laughter rang over the opening notes of the next song. “It was about damn _time_ they got together.”

 

Making a face at the song playing, Damian hit pause and continued his search. Idly he pitied the poor sap who Drake was clearly mooning over like a love struck fourteen year old girl.

 

“Him and Superboy _really_ need to be locked in a room together already.” Stephanie agreed with a laugh as they walked out of his earshot.

 

His thumb paused on the dial as he processed that little tit bit. Drake and…oh dear _God_ what the _hell_ did that idiot see in that over grown test tube experiment gone dumb? Also, mental note. He was going to revise his current policy of keeping a minimum of 5 feet distance between himself and Drake to maintaining _at least_ 10 feet between them. No sense in getting catching _whatever it was_ that was affecting Drake and his mediocre senses. He didn’t want to go around acting like that love struck imbecile. He couldn’t stop himself from scoffing at the passing couple’s idiotic notions. The only good Drake, in his books, was a Drake _far far_ away from Gotham and locked away behind…

 

 _‘Wait a minute.’_ He paused as Stephanie’s voice echoed inside his head.

 

An idea began to form around that voice.

 

It wouldn’t be easy…but if he were successful (which he would be, naturally), it would guarantee Drake’s non-presence around Gotham.

 

And with that, Damian had his plan.

 

—

 

It was a solid plan with a firm foundation in facts.

 

Fact #01: Drake was clearly harboring emotions for Superboy.

 

Fact #02: Superboy was apparently just as obvious in his feelings about Drake.

 

Fact #03: The two were able to spend large amounts of time together without wanting to kill each other.

 

Fact #04: People clearly thought that it was about time those two numbskulls got together.

 

Fact #05: Upon observation, Damian had to admit that they _were_ being extremely (and disgustingly) obvious about their feelings for each other but not acting upon them.

 

Therefore, he had taken it upon himself to get those idiots together so that he could get Drake out of his life. Hopefully forever if everything went according to plan.

 

With those goals in mind, the plan that Damian had formulated was simple. Because the chances of failure in a simple plan were next to zero.

 

And with his Father out of Gotham on Batman Inc. business, he couldn't ask for a better opportunity.

 

—

 

Tim groaned as he came too. His head was pounding, his vision completely dark as he opened his eyes.

 

“The hell?” he slurred past his thick tongue and woozy head.

 

An answering groan right against his ear made him jerk back instinctively. His head screamed at the sudden movement, pain ricocheting against his skull as he strained to get a lock-on whoever was stuck with him in … where ever they were.

 

“Jesus _fuck_!” a well known voice cursed heavily, making Tim squint.

 

“Conner?”, he asked hesitantly and got another groan in response.

 

“Anyone get the number of that ten ton truck with Kyrptonite tires  that ran me over and then backed up?” Kon whined from in front of him.

 

“It was probably the same guy who knocked me out too.” Tim ran his fingers over the back of his head, hissing as he touched the large painful bump. _‘Alright, stop and think for a moment. What is the last thing you remember…’_

_  
_

Tim blinked as he drew a complete and utter blank. Or that might have been because of the strange itchy feeling making its way up his nose. With a thumb, he rubbed a nostril in the hopes of making the sneeze come out or go away. The smell inside his nostrils was sweet and giving him nose burn. And smelled familiar…

 

Kon’s loud and sudden sneeze made him jump back into something solid. Probably a door by the feel of it. The groove cut into his back and waist. Which alerted him to the fact that he didn’t even have his utility belt on. And that standing straight was kind of difficult when you felt woozy as hell. And what is kinda hot in here or was it just him?

 

He could hear Kon groaning his name from somewhere far away, a pleasant hazy fog beginning to settle into his head. Along with a rising heat through his body that centered around his groin area.

 

Ah well, now he understood that sweet smell.

 

Which was a fleeting thought as desire burned up inside of him. One hand went down between his legs, trying to adjust his fast growing erection against his jock. The contact made him whimper and bite down on his lip, half fearful that Kon had heard him.

 

“Tim? You okay?”

 

Okay, so Kon had indeed heard him. And he sounded kind of woozy himself. Which sounded like the perfect excuse to reach out for him actually. He stretched his hand out, blinding groping for Kon. Fingertips pressed against a warm chest, slowly sliding up until cotton turned to skin. He was pretty sure that he was panting softly as he traced Kon’s neck and jaw. Kon’s chest was heaving underneath his fingertips as well.

 

There was a soft, powdery residue on his fingertips but he paid it no heed. Because Kon had just taken a step forward…and another. Pressed up against a flat surface seemed like an _excellent_ idea as Kon’s hands gripped him by the waist and pulled him up. After a split second of wondering why he was being manhandled (when all he wanted to do was rub up against Kon’s hard muscles), he felt one of the hands under his thigh (and didn’t _that_ feel nice).

 

He curled his legs around Kon’s nice, broad waist with a mewl, enjoying the feel of it against his inner thighs. He could feel Kon’s hot breath fluttering over his parted lips and coming closer and closer…

 

—

 

Dick frowned at the empty slot where a small sample of sex pollen was supposed to be.

 

“Hey Damian!” he yelled, hoping that his voice would carry out of the vault. “C’mere a sec!”

 

He ducked down to check if the vial had maybe fallen and rolled under something. Which gave him an excellent view of Damian’s untied boots as he stomped in. It was a small wonder, he thought idly to himself, that Damian managed to walk around with his boots untied and yet never trip on his laces.

 

“This better be important Grayson.” Damian spoke in his usual clipped tones, “I’ve got better things to do than to watch you crawl around on all fours.”

 

Ignoring the second comment, Dick continued to scan the floor, “I don’t suppose you’ve seen a vial of Ivy’s pollen around have you? It’s not in its place.”

 

“I took it.” The ease with which Damian just declared that little fact made Dick freeze. What _possible_ reason could a boy his age have…

 

“ _Why_ exactly did you take the pollen?” he asked as calmly as he could.

 

Damian’s shoulders rose and fell in a careless shrug, “I required a substance strong enough to work on a Kryptonian.”

 

“On a Kryp- did you use it on Superman?” Or worse… ”on _Kara_?!” Oh God he didn’t want to hear the answer to that question.

 

“-tt- Going senile already Grayson?” Damian sneered at him, arms crossed over his chest. “Why would I use Ivy’s pollen on Superman or Supergirl?”

 

“Oh Thank _God_.”, Dick couldn’t stop himself from praying thankfully.

 

“I used it on Superboy.” So much for offering thanks.

 

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Dick asked, thrown completely for a loop. “Why would you…?”

 

Damian rolled his eyes, as though the answer was obvious. Some days Dick wonders how the younger man’s brain _works_. “I required something that would put him in a … suggestive mood.”

 

“And I repeat. _Why_ would you…?”

 

“So that he would act on his feelings for Drake. _Obviously_. -tt-“

 

‘Obviously’ he said. Wait. Dick froze, eyes widening in a panic as it hits him that he hadn’t seen Tim around for a few hours. “Where’s Tim?”

 

“Where Superboy is obviously.” He ran past Damian, jostling the boy’s smaller frame in his haste. “Grayson, what do you think you’re doing?”

 

“I’VE GOTTA SAVE TIM’S VIRGINITY!” Burst out without check as he skid over to the main console and activated a few tracking devices.

 

“At his age?” Damian scoffed. “Let him lose it, he’ll thank you later.” And then after a pause, “Or thank me actually. That _will_ be a sight to see.”

 

Ignoring Damian’s comments, Dick tracked Tim down in…the broom closet on the second floor. With a half appalled, half surprised look at Damian, Dick was off like a shot.

 

—

 

Kon had the vague thought that maybe he should be worried how he had been in San Francisco one moment and then locked someone where dark with Tim and feeling really woozy and… kinda turned on. Make that really, _really_ turned on when Tim’s crotch moved _just right_ against his groin.

 

But it was hard to _think_ with a lap full of Red Robin squirming against you. So, Kon was happy to chuck his thoughts to the wind and just let the heat consume him. It was just far more easier to kiss Tim back, drag a hand over his back and squeeze that firm ass that he’d been fantasizing about for a few months now.

 

Trying to get those stupid tights of his off was slightly harder. Especially when Tim’s hands kept getting in the way. Which was a mixed blessing because yay, Tim was taking his pants off. But every touch against his aching cock through the denim was fucking _murder_.

 

It was easier to slip his hands down Tim’s tights after grabbing his wrists with his TTK and pushing them back against the wall. _So_ much better, he thought as he felt glorious naked skin underneath his hands.

 

Tim was whining and panting against the grip, teeth biting down on Kon’s lower lip in rebuke. Pain and pleasure rolled down his back, making his hips jerk up into Tim’s. Tim’s hands  were straining against their hold, hips pushing up into Kon’s hands as a hot whisper floated past his ear. “Touch me Conner. I need you to touch me.”

 

Happy to oblige, he slid his fingers down the final few inches to touch Tim’s full erection.

 

The next thing he realized was a sudden rattling noise, a burst of light and a familiar voice yelling something about saving Tim and a whole lot of smoke that made him pass out immediately.

 

\--

 

It was like sitting in a room with a broken gramophone.

 

Or the world's most annoying parrot that wouldn't shut up.

 

Dick loomed over Damian, who in turn was curled up in a sofa.

 

"You need to go apologize to Tim. Are you listening to me Damian?"  
  


Damian gave the older man the most dry look he could manage, "Yes, Grayson. I have been listening to you go on and on _and on_ about Drake for the past twenty minutes now. And within this time, you have stated _that_ particular statement twelve times. I _have_ been listening."

  
It's slightly amusing to see him roll his eyes in irritation. Now if only he would stop trying to get him to apologize. Because Damian saw no reason why he had to apologize to those twits anyways. If he had his way, _Dick_ should be apologizing to everyone for stopping the plan half way through. Because everything had been going _fine_ until the man had decided to crash into the closet armed with knock out gas.  
  


And _everything_ had gone to Hell after that.  
  


Dick had explained what had happened as soon as they had woken up and Superboy had flown away faster than you could say 'zip'. Which in turn pushed Tim into the worst brooding session he had ever seen. Which was _saying something_ if one were to take into consideration the brooding moods his father could go into. Thankfully his father still hadn't returned from his business abroad. There was at least something going to his favor.

 

In any case, Tim was practically _living_ in the shadows these days. If he wasn't working himself down to the bone in the Cave or patrolling, he was loitering around the house. And by loitering he meant that the man was _moping_. Still like a fifteen old girl however. Just a lot more depressed. He was surprised that the man wasn't holed up in his room listening to angsty goth rock or something. It was _annoying_.  
  


Not _as_ annoying as having Dick harp on and _on_ about this. But still...  
  


"If you don't march your butt upstairs right now and apologize to Tim, I'm taking you off patrolling for a month."  
  


"That is hardly fair!" He snapped, indignation dripping off his voice.  
  


"It's your fault that those two haven't spoken to each other in over _three_ weeks now. And that Tim's been more depressed since..." Grayson paused for a moment. "Since! So until you apologize, no patrolling."  
  


\--  
  


This was _so_ stupid. So completely, utterly _idiotic_.  
  


And completely below his status. A Wayne apologizing to a Drake? Please...  
  


But nothing was worth being taken off active duty for a month. So, here he was trying to find _which_ dark corner Tim was hiding in today. Usually the man was hiding in the library or a smaller study. But today, oddly enough, the man was in his bedroom. Listening to _Enya_ , of all things. With a sneer at the music choice, Damian knocked on the door. When Tim finally opened the door, he looked dully at the younger boy before asking, "Can I help you Damian?"  
  


"I wish to speak with you." Damian replied stiffly, half expecting the door to be slammed in his face. Actually, he was bracing himself for impact when instead, Tim quietly opened the door further and gestured for the smaller male to step in.  
  


The situation was far dire than he had anticipated. Perhaps Grayson was onto something when he had mentioned Tim being depressed. Eyes darting over all possible exit points (and the state of the neat room. _'Dear God, everything is so neat and organized. It is the complete opposite of Grayson's pig sty of a room.'_ ), he came to a stop in the middle of the room. With his head held high and arms crossed over his chest, Damian began to speak. Stiffly and with many pauses. "I intended to...apologize..."

 

There. That was adequate wasn't it? Dick wanted him to apologize and he had, problem solved, case closed.  
  


Except that Tim was looking like someone had run over his puppy.  
  


"Apologize?" the man asked, "For what exactly? For knocking me and Conner out? For locking us into a closet? For using Ivy's pollen on us? For screwing up the best friendship I've had? For ruining the one chance I had with him?"  
  


Well that was entirely far too much blame to be placed on his shoulders. "Only for the first two. Three at best. I am hardly responsible for the fall out which occurred because I was not directly a part of it."  
  


"Not directly responsible?" Tim stared at him incredulously, "If it wasn't for you, none of this would have happened!"  
  


"Yes and you would still be dancing around in circles like the idiots that you are." Damian snorted, "-tt- Honestly Drake, you could have seized the opportunity to take the next logical step but instead, you chose to run away."  
  


Tim looked torn between anger and embarrassment as he spoke, "I almost _had sex_ with my _best friend_ under the influence of a drug! Forgive me if I needed time to process the fact that my little brother chose to use the aforementioned drugs in a  _crackpot_ attempt to set me up for his own benefit!"  
  


He was failing to see a problem in that last line. Except the crackpot part. "All I attempted was to give you two lunatics a shove in the right direction! You both have been circling each other long enough, it is about time you actually did something about it instead of just sitting there staring at each other like a pair of cats in heat."  
  


Honestly, why was he standing here defending his actions against a man who couldn't even see the forest for all the trees? He was beginning to understand the saying 'like slamming your head against a wall'. Seeing Drake struggle with his emotions was was irritating. And oddly enough, strangely pitiful.  
  


"Drake, it is clear to anyone with eyes and a two working brain cells that you two have feelings for each other. And yet you both have been refusing to act on them." A pink tinge spread over Tim's cheeks as he looked away, "It is about time that you stopped running away and actually acted on your feelings."  
  


The older man ran his hand through his hair, "It's not that simple. It's more complicated than that."  
  


"I fail to see why it is." Damian shrugged, "You like him, he likes you, you both are unattached. What is so complicated in this situation? Clearly you are over thinking the whole matter."  
  


"We're best friends." was the reply he got. The 'duh' overtones were clear as a bell in those three words. "It could ruin out friendship!"  
  


"Like you are doing right now?" He couldn't stop himself from pointing that out. "By avoiding his calls for the past three weeks and refusing to see him the two times he wanted to see you, you are _not_ ruining your friendship? -tt-"  
  


The suddenness with which Drake turned around to look at him was a surprise. There was a clarity in those blue eyes that he had been missing for the past twenty odd days. Which was replaced with a wary suspicion, "Why are you doing this Damian? Why are you helping me?"  
  


Damian snorted, "Because I want you out of Gotham obviously. Get together with that idiot and move to Metropolis, San Francisco, Kansas, I frankly don't care. I just don't want to have you afoot. You're an eyesore that needs to be removed from my sights as soon as possible."  
  


Which, strangely, made Tim laugh. Puzzled, he stood there waiting for Tim to stop laughing. Was it really that funny?  
  


Some of his irritated confusion must have shown because Drake stood up (straighter than he had all week) and gave him a small smile. "Thank you Damian. I'm going to follow your advice."  
  


"-tt-, about time you acknowledged my far superior intellect Drake."  
  


Drake rolled his eyes, "Your welcome would have sufficed."  
  


\--  
  


Damian paid no heed to the sound of the flying Batmobile roaring out of the cave. If anyone were to ask him, he would have commented that Tim took twenty minutes too many to get his butt out his room and the mansion. In another ten he would be out of Gotham, in another 3 hours in San Francisco and then-  
  


"Pardon me sir, is Master Timothy here?" Alfred's cool tones cut into his thoughts. Damian turned to look at the old man and was taken aback by the large figure standing behind him.  
  


Oh how he wanted to smack someone silly (and by someone he meant Tim) for this karmic joke. Kon stood behind Alfred, farm boy clothes and half nervous expression his face as he greeted Dick. Dick was just as taken aback as he spoke, "Hey Conner! What brings you by?"  
  


"I uuuuh..." Kon wrung his hands together nervously, "wanted to try to talk to Tim again. If he's around."  
  


With a quick look towards Damian, Dick replied, "Actually...funny thing about that... He just left to find you."  
  


Damian grumbled at full speed underneath his breath (in Arabic because it just felt better to be angry in the language he knew best) as he tried to hail Tim on the comm link. While doing so, he thought that perhaps he never should have stuck his nose into this hornet's nest.  
  


Because the stupidity just kept on coming without any end on sight.  
  


\--  
  


He was nervous. He couldn't think of any other time in his life when he had been this nervous. Or well, the good kind of nervous where it felt like he had a whole field of butterflies fluttering around in his chest wanting to fly out. Tim took the stairs two at a time, panting as he pushed himself harder. It was odd that he could still hear Damian's voice inside his head. And that it gave him _hope_.  
  


Who would have thought that the day would come that he would be grateful for the brat's intervention in his life. With a small internal laugh, Tim opened the door of his room.  
  


Kon jumped and turned away from the window, "Jeez! Tim!" He groaned with one hand over his chest, "You scared the crap outta me!"  
  


His heart was beating uncomfortably fast inside his chest. It beat painfully against his ribs and he could _feel_ his lungs constricting. His body thrummed with a nervous energy as he stood in the doorway staring at Kon. A sudden recklessness urged him to throw every damn caution to the wind and jumped Kon.  
  


No one was more surprised than himself when he found his feet moving towards Kon. The meta's eyes flew wide in surprise when Tim threw himself at him, hands coming up automatically to support the body pressing against him. He fell back a step or two before he managed to right himself, "Tim, what th-"  
  


His words turned into a confused, muffled mess when Tim's hands dragged him down into a hard kiss. Eyes comically wide, he stared at Tim's face as he pulled back. There were a ton of questions he wanted to ask except his vocal chords seemed to have temporarily checked out.  
  


Tim's face was flushed, eyes fairly glittering in nervous excitement as he stated, "I love you. I've loved you for a while now and I want to be your boyfriend."  
  


It was simultaneously the most exhilarating and most scary experience in his life to just throw all caution to the wind and go in guns blazing without any real plan up his sleeve. He remained on tip toes, hanging onto Kon with his hands locked behind the man's neck. But even heart beat filled with silence from Kon's side made his anxiety rise.  
  


His paranoia was yelling loudly inside his head when he decided to lower his trembling hands. i' _You messed it up you messed everything up'_. He had taken half a step back, thinking that never would _ever_ be the same again or _better_ when Kon's hands wrapped around his wrists. Head snapping up to Kon's drawn face, he held his breath. Waiting for rejection. Waiting for the end of the best thing in his life.  
  


"Seriously?" Kon asked, voice high and breathy in disbelief. "I didn't just imagine you saying that you love me?"  
  


Tim shook his head gently from side to side, head feeling too heavy and too light at the same time. Moisture gathered at the corners of his eyes and hung there when Kon took his face into his hands. "I love you too. I want that too." he whispered against his lips before kissing him breathless.  
  


The wetness remained on his lashes as he whimpered against Kon's lips, kissing him back. Fingers moved over warm skin until they had a tight grip on white and blue flannel. Anchoring himself against Kon, Tim pulled back for air. He stayed there, trying to catch his breath along with Kon. Small, hot puffs of air pushing against his lips, making his knees tremble every time.  
  


Happiness buoyed his mood higher than the clouds, making him grin broadly at Kon. Kon returned the grin before he pulled Tim into a warm embrace.   
  


\--  
  


He had a good deed yes?  
  


So why was he being _punished_ for it?  
  


Admittedly his motives might not have been entirely _pure (_ not if you went by the strictest sense of the term) but the end result was something which benefited _two_ people (and himself as a side benefit but that wasn't the point).  
  


He ground his teeth, wishing Dick hadn't made him swear to stay away from the Kryptonite stash (whose access was now only restricted to Dick and Alfred and they kept changing the password to the vault at random points of the day). Because he would _very_ dearly like to punch that idiot half-Kryptonian out. And hope that in doing so, he'd take Drake out with him during the fall. There was only so much blatant flirting that he could take and he had hit his quota two _weeks_ ago. To add insult to injury, his father had come back and not said a word against the meta's presence! Only told the man that he wasn't allowed to play superhero within Gotham town limits and to always enter and leave through the front door. (And there was something after that about using protection but Damian didn't pay that part much mind.)  
  


However, Damian was having a hard time wondering where he had gone wrong in his plans. It was such a simple plan...so where had he gone wrong? Yes, he had managed to get Tim together with Kon but strangely, Tim's presence around the mansion remained the same. Instead, the meta was now a fairly permanent presence around the mansion. Instead of losing an idiot, he had _gained_ another.   
  


Any time during the day, he would find that large idiot either in the kitchen or hovering around Tim. Or worse, he'd stumble upon the two of them necking like a pair of teenagers. It made him seriously consider bleaching his eyes out. There was only so many times that he could walk into a room and find his older 'brother' pushed against a flat surface with his shirt half off and moaning enthusiastically for his boyfriend to kiss him harder.  
  


 _'Why doesn't Drake move out already_?' Damian grouched to himself as he slid underneath his bike, intent on locating the source of the rattling noise. He was grateful that the meta wasn't hanging around the cave today. A pair of feet came to stand behind his head. He pushed himself out and turned around to look up at Tim. The older man waited for Damian to pull his ear phones out before speaking, "Can I speak to you for a minute?"  
  


With a curt nod, Damian stood up on his feet. Wiping his hands clean on the rag attached to his belt, he gave Tim a quick look, "As long as you make it quick."  
  


"I just wanted to thank you." Damian's expression remained flat as he looked at Tim. "For what you did. As crazy as it was..." Tim's tone clearly spoke about _how_ crazy he thought Damian's plan had been. "You helped me. So...thank you."  
  


"-tt- I hardly need your thanks." Damian snapped, "The last thing I wanted was your thanks or seeing you being so disgusting with your paramour under this roof."  
  


At least the man had enough good grace to look a bit flustered at that comment. "If it's any consolation, I'm looking for my own place?" Tim offered.  
  


"Remind to tell the all the real estate agents to find you a suitable rat hole as soon as possible." Damian muttered before slipping the ear buds back in as he heard Kon's voice calling for Tim.   
  


He really should have known better than to have based his plan on Fatgirl's comments.   
  


\--


End file.
